Fragmentation
by CoffeeWritingAddiction
Summary: That one night. That one night changed everything. There was no reason to go on anymore. No reason to live without her. Lorna/Nicky.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the show or characters. All I own is the writing and story.**

 **Author's Note: This is something that's been in the back of my mind for a while now. It just had to be written. I'm sorry in advance. I doubt anyone will read this anyway, I'm evil for this. I'm sorry. Feel free to review and let me know how much you hate this. Thanks. Good luck if you go forth in reading this.**

 **To The Very Kind Guest Reviewer: A good question. I left that unanswered for a reason. For the possibility of maybe turning this into a multi-chapter story at some point. One that slowly reveals how she died. But I don't know when that will be. Anyway, thank you so much for the very lovely compliment. I'm sorry this story probably ruined your night...oops.**

 **Warning: Major Character Death. (Sorry).**

* * *

 _Fragmentation_

That one night. That one night changed everything. There was no reason to go on anymore. No reason to live without her. No point in leaving the sterile hospital room alone. Lorna lain herself emotionlessly on the bed, her arms not releasing from her lover's limp body for anything. She couldn't leave her. Nicky was everything to her. Her life, her reason to breathe…her other half. Without her, she knew there was no reason to keep living. The only way she was leaving that hospital room was if they dragged her off in the casket with her soul-mate.

It was not until a strong pair of arms enveloped around her, pulling her way from the love of her life, that she realized anyone else's presence. The arms cradled her, carried her away from the sterile environment—the room where she would last see her girlfriend. The last place she'd ever spend with Nicky. Her throat felt raw from crying so hard. All the crying and sobbing made it impossible to break free from whoever took her away. The only thing that seemed to bring any sort of peace—comfort—was closing her eyes. Letting sleep overtake her.

* * *

The next time her eyes opened, she found herself in a completely new environment. The room smelled of a warm—cinnamon—aroma. It was comforting but only until she remembered the wound she was left with. She was empty and numb. No one would ever be able to make her whole again. Lorna Morello was only a fragment of the person she used to be. The person Nicky helped her become.

"Here ya go, Lorna," the familiar Russian accent rang through the room, a steaming cup of cinnamon-flavored tea in her hands. "Some tea for your throat. All that crying, I know, must be doing some damage to it."

Lorna shook her head, face red and puffy from spending the majority of her time weeping. Weeping for the woman she longed to be with. The only woman— _person_ —who could ever love her so deeply. Life wasn't worth it anymore. She needed Nicky in it and that was cruelly whisked away from her. Now, all that she was, was an empty, fragmented, shell of the woman she once had been.

The numbness, Red felt it as well. Nicky was her daughter—the little girl she always wanted—and now, she was being prepared for burial. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel _real_. She heaved in a breath of air and tried to put her focus on the brunette woman who lay miserly on her living room sofa. As hard as it was for her to lose Nicky, she knew it had to be ten times harder for Lorna.

"How about we go sit in the kitchen and have our tea? It'll do you good to get your legs moving, sweetheart. You've been laying there for almost an entire day—that's not healthy. Come on, come with me," Red tenderly commanded, placing her hands gently onto the younger woman's and cautiously helping her to stand.

Lorna meekly followed behind the Russian matron. Her head bowed down the entire way. Being in this house—a house where Nicky spent the majority of her later years—didn't sit well with her. She didn't belong here, not anymore. This was Nicky's home with Red. And without Nicky, there was no reason for Lorna. No reason at all for Lorna to be here—to be living and breathing.

Placing the mug on the table in front of the brunette, Red watched her drearily. She knew every ache and pain she was feeling. It was the very same pain she was feeling. The numbness, the grief. Something the two would bond over for years, now. Catching her breath, she walked over to the tea-pot and poured some into her own mug. It wouldn't change things to drink it, she knew that, but tea brought comfort to her. And she hoped it would do the same for Lorna.

"Have a sip of tea. _Please._ You need to put something in your body, Lorna. I know this is hard—God, I really do—but Nicky wouldn't want you to stop living. She wouldn't want to see you like this, honey. I don't want to see you like this. I already lost one daughter; _I don't_ wanna lose another," her Russian accent thick with emotion. Emotion for the loss of her Nicky and the pain of her Lorna. She loathed this. Her two girls were finally building the life together that they always wanted and just one night, _one damn night_ , and all of that was gone.

"Tea is not gonna make this better, Red. My-my soul-mate is d-dead and I-I can't go on without her. I can't do this without-without Nicky," Lorna finally mustered up a concoction of words yet they tumbled out of her mouth in between a fit of sobs that made it almost impossible to comprehend. She shook her head, hands pushing the mug away, and laid her face on the table. Losing Nicky was impossible to comprehend. There was no way to get past this. How could she?

The words stung. They were so unmistakably true that it cut like a knife for Red to hear them come out of Lorna's mouth. She set her own down and got up from her chair. Without even a second of hesitation, she engulfed the broken brunette up into her strong arms. She pulled her close, let her arms wrap her in a strong embrace. An embrace she wished would make everything better—for both of them.

"We're gonna get through this," she murmured, holding her hand over the back of Lorna's head, keeping her as close to her heart as possible. The convulsion and shaking erupted her with her own set of tears. She swallowed thickly and pressed her lips over the brunette's head. "We're gonna get through this, my darling, I promise. Nicky's watching over us. She'll always be with us."

* * *

The funeral, Lorna dreaded everything about it. Waking up and dressing herself in some black dress, putting her hair up in a bun, she hated all of it. She just wanted to crawl in bed and never get up again. But she forced herself to do this. To go and say one last goodbye to her lover. As hard as it was, she knew if she didn't go, she'd never have any closure.

A cold, dreariness, loomed through the room. It was a painful walk from the entrance all the way down to the open casket. Lorna didn't know how she managed the walk. How she managed to end up here. How Nicky managed to end up lying limp inside a casket. This couldn't be real, she thought, this had to be a nightmare. Or a practical joke. Maybe Nicky was sleeping all along and any minute she'd jump up to scare everyone.

" _Who are you?_ " Lorna couldn't even recognize her own voice. She didn't realize she spoke until she felt a soothing hand lay on her shoulder from behind. A hand to hold her back from the unfamiliar woman who stood in front of the casket.

The woman turned around, her face a hardened resemblance of that of whom lay lifeless within the casket. Her neatly styled caramel-colored waves sat stiffly amongst thin shoulders. Nose crinkled on her face. "What kind of heartless greeting is that to the grieving mother? I should be the one asking _who you_ are."

Everything inside of Lorna froze. She felt an overpowering anger tear through her at the fresh knowledge. A lump formed in her throat, she held tightly onto her dress to stop herself from having an outburst. "You're Nicky's _mother_? Where've ya been the last ten years, huh? Why was Nicky living with Red? Why did ya never fucking call her on her birthdays or holidays or come to fucking see her when she was lying lifeless in the damn hospital? Ya ain't Nicky's mom… _Red is_ ," venom seeped strongly from her mouth. Her eyes glared menacingly into the tall woman's beady ones. How it outraged her immensely to come face-to-face with her lover's dead-beat mother. A sickness lurked in her stomach at such sight.

" _Get out_ ," Marka Nichols roared, ready to pounce on the clearly broken soul. Her eyes held a darkness, one that didn't take well to being called out on the truth. And at her own daughter's funeral? Oh, no, she wouldn't allow that.

Lorna shook her head and moved past the raging woman, nearly throwing herself on the casket. Tears poured heavily from her soul-less eyes. She placed her hand on Nicky's cheeks and felt her body convulse with sobs. This wasn't her Nicky. Nicky didn't feel stiff and cold to the touch. This had to be some sort of mistake, she thought.

The gruel shouting from Mrs. Nichols went unto deaf ears. No one, especially not that woman, could ever understand the grief and sorrow Nicky's death left her with. No one could keep her away from her. She didn't care how hard and loud Marka yelled at her—Nicky was hers. She loved Nicky, she changed for Nicky, she would die for Nicky. She wanted to die with Nicky, she realized. Because living without her hurt too much.

* * *

A pair of arms encircled the disoriented brunette. The room was silent and dim. She must have fallen asleep, Lorna thought. The arms pulled her way from the casket, pulling her against another human being's body—a familiar one at that. Her eyes peaked wearily out of their lids and she all but choked when she caught glimpse of Nicky. Tears fell heavily along her cheeks as she wrapped her arms snug around her neck.

"Nicky…Nicky, is that really you?"

The arms tugged her closer, placing Lorna's head against a softly-beating chest. Lips brushed over her head; lips that Lorna immediately knew to be her Nicky's. Relief and euphoria was all that ran through her veins. Her Nicky was with her, holding her—she didn't die after all, the thought brought a warmth over her. She knew Nicky wouldn't leave her.

"You're gonna be okay," that soft, warm, husky accent whispered into Lorna's ear. The only voice that could ever bring her the comfort she needed. The comfort to get her past this. A gentle hand ran through her hair, stroking and twisting strands of brown waves. "I love you so much, Lorna. I promise I'll always be watching over you. I'll make sure you get through this, baby. But I need ya to make me a promise."

The words cut like a knife. Lorna only tightened the grip on her neck. Sobs echoed through the room. This wasn't real—a heartrending internalization. It only made the pain worse. The situation more real. "I love you too, Nicky, more than anyone. I can't live without you— _I can't do it_! Don't make me promise that. I need you…I need you so bad, Nicky," the words spilled hoarsely from her mouth.

"Shh, shh," Nicky murmured, cradling the broken woman snug in her arms. She leaned their foreheads softly together, letting their lips brush over one another. Her eyes gazed compassionately into solemn ones. "Ya have to live. It's not your time, my baby. I know it's hard. But I need you to keep living; I want you to be happy. I'll be here whenever ya need me but you can't give up on living. You have so much life to live, Lorna. And so many people who will be there to get ya through this. Please, baby, let them help. Oh, and, thanks for sticking up for me in fronta Marka—yeah, I saw that. Ya showed her, kid. She's gonna have some hell to pay for trying to throw my baby outta there, believe me. Now that I'm a floating spirit, I can haunt whoever I want. Isn't that great?"

Even with all the grief and pain, Nicky still managed to get a small laugh out of her. Lorna sniffled, resting her head on her chest and looking up at her with a sad smile. "Can ya haunt me every night, hon? That's the only way I can live. Please…I need to know you're with me."

Snorting out a chuckle, Nicky dropped a delicate kiss to her head and pulled her closer. "Sure, baby, whatever keeps ya breathing. Now, why don't ya shut your eyes and sleep? You haven't had any peaceful rest since my death…I know, I've been watching. You can sleep, now, though. I've got ya, baby. Everything's gonna be okay," she soothed into her ear, running a hand tenderly up and down her back. "Everything's gonna be okay, my baby."

* * *

It was dark and cold when Lorna awoke some long hours later. The pain in her chest grew. It was all just a dream—Nicky wasn't coming back. She was never going to see the love of her life again. And that was enough to have her face flooding with tears. Her throat felt raw and scratchy from all the sobbing. A pair of arms pulled her back down against a soft body—she longed for it to be her Nicky but her eyes saw that it wasn't. Nicky would never hold her again—a sad, heartbreaking, awareness.

Seeing Lorna in this much distress—this much anguish—Alex Vause couldn't even imagine what that was like. She couldn't comprehend the pain losing one's soul-mate would do to her. But she vowed to herself—and Nicky—that she would be there for Lorna, to help and comfort her. Anything she could to get her through this. The last wish Nicky had requested of her. It brought a lump in her throat all over again just thinking about such.

"Come here, kid, lay back down. I know it feels like ya can't breathe without her…but you're not alone. I'm right here, I'll be right here to help you," her raspy voice rang through the barely-lit bedroom. She held out her arms for the petite woman—who heaved out sob after sob.

Lorna shook her head. If she gave in, that meant she was accepting Nicky's death. And that's something she wasn't ready to do. She wasn't ready to admit that her lover was never coming back. She couldn't. "I want Nicky," the brunette's voice cracked, her body collapsing into the mattress below.

The other took that as her cue to pull her into her arms. She rocked her softly, pressing soothing kisses all along her head and forehead. Doing anything and everything to bring her any amount of comfort. It would never be enough, she knew. It wouldn't make things better—wouldn't bring Nicky back. But it was all she could for Lorna. All she could to calm her was hold and rock her and stroke her hair. " _I know_ ," she whispered, "I know, baby. I wish I could bring her back for you. I wish I could."


End file.
